


as we huddle together, the storm raging outside

by boleynqueens



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:25:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6392287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boleynqueens/pseuds/boleynqueens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne told him last year that May 19th was never a good day for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as we huddle together, the storm raging outside

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr prompt: the way you said i love you: as we huddle together, the storm raging outside, asked by lucreziaborgia

**May 19, 2017, Friday, 11:11 AM**

Anne told him last year that May 19th was never a good day for her.

"Why?" he had asked.

"Just isn't. I have…bad luck. I don't know. I just always dread it."

Today, the bad luck seems to have spread to the rest of London. It storms and rages outside, several power outages ensue in their surrounding neighborhoods. Rain falls, angrily, against the cobblestones below.

Their apartment still has power, though, which is a good thing today, especially, because this year the bad luck for her seems to be that she's sick.

She woke up chilled, teeth chattering.

Henry's tucked her into blankets, covered her feet in the fuzzy socks (part of the package his mother sent them for Christmas last year), and brings her piece after piece of buttered toast with honey, cup after cup of hot tea.

But nothing seems to be working.

He's checked her forehead, nipped out for a bit to the corner store to pick up an actual thermometer, but she doesn't seem to have a fever.

"We're going to the doctor," he insists, and she shakes her head vehemently, "no, it'll pass, I'm sure…"

Henry settles in to the blankets behind her, holds his hands tight against her waist, kisses the spot on her neck that meets her shoulder blade.

"Are you warm yet?" he asks.

"No, but it's alright…" Anne murmurs, sleepily.

Henry releases her hair from its band, lets it spill down her shoulders, runs his hands through it, soothing.

"I just want you to feel better, okay?" he whispers, "What can I do?"

"I feel better next to you," she says.

Thunder cracks, and it feels like a bad omen. She shivers, and he pulls her closer.

"I love you," he says, fiercely, a quiet pride in his voice, as if he's reciting an oath.

"I love you, too."

"We're going to the doctor tomorrow if you don't feel better by then. Okay?"

"Okay," she agrees.

But the next morning, she does feel better. Grateful for life, as if an incredible weight has been lifted, she steps out onto their balcony right after the sun rises, happily feels the sunlight, warm against her skin. The sun glows, orange and pink and gold, and so does she.  


End file.
